


If it's Convenient

by violet_hour



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Desperate!Harry, M/M, Omorashi, as always, i can't believe how many of these i write, prompt, yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:49:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet_hour/pseuds/violet_hour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you know, another omorashi fic.<br/>Based off this prompt: 'Harry really needing to pee while out and when he finally decides to go, the men's line is too long so he rushes into the women's.'</p>
<p>Written fairly quickly, so I apologize for the general lack of depth, and character insight. Hopefully it's still a decent read :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	If it's Convenient

”I need to pee,” Harry says offhandedly as they open the door to the next shop. 

It’s become a bit more than just a slight irritation at this point, but he can probably still wait a while. He’s pretty sure Louis didn’t even hear him anyway, since he’s already busy chatting up the bloke up front; probably trying to see if he can sucker him into giving Louis some sort of ‘I’m pretty sure we are your best customers, mate, and if it wasn’t for us, you might be out of business’ discount again. 

Making his way over to gaze at some tennis rackets, Harry can’t help but to focus on the growing pressure in his bladder. He might have to take care of it sooner than later. The urge had hit him a while ago, but he’d basically ignored it until this point. 

“Did you hear that?” Louis grins, suddenly beside him. 

Grinning teasingly, Harry glances around casually, “You’ve gotten us kicked out of the shop already?” He’s trying to scope out a bathroom, but he doesn’t see one. 

Frowning, Louis huffs and says, “Of course not. That was one time. No, Niall - he’s the one working up front, he said if we come back this weekend; when his manager’s not here, he can get us that ‘most loyal customers’ discount.”

“You mean that ‘most loyal customers’ discount that you forced him to give us last time, and isn’t even a real thing?”

“‘Forced’ is a strong word,” Louis decides, picking up a tennis racket idly. “I’d say it was more ‘heavily pressed upon’.”

“Which makes it so much better,” Harry jokes back. Giving Louis a calculating stare, he purses his lips. “Should I be jealous that you’re now on first-name basis with this lad, not to mention getting specially unique discounts from him?”

Louis glances back towards the front counter, where Niall is currently ringing someone up. Louis grins. “Yes, you should, Haz. He’s bloody fit.” 

Snorting softly, Harry takes the racket out of Louis’ hand and places it back on the shelf. Slinking his arms around Louis’ neck instead, he pulls him close until they’re practically nose to nose. “Too bad for him, I don’t share,” Harry informs him, leaning in to close the gap between their lips. When they pull apart a moment later, Louis squints his features, looking off like he’s thinking about something. 

“Hmm,” he hums. “That was alright. I guess. But Niall also hinted at possible seats to the next ManU game, so I’m thinking it’s going to take at least four more of those from you to make me reconsider.”

Smiling sweetly, Harry leans in to whisper into Louis’ ears, arms still wrapped around his neck. “How about this; when we get back home, I’ll make us dinner, start a bath, and then ride you in the midst of too many candles, and over-scented bathbombs?” 

Nodding appreciatively, Louis seems to consider the option. “I might be able to settle for that. But I’m picking the bathbomb.” 

“Deal,” Harry agrees, unwrapping himself from around Louis and gesturing his head at the shop. “Now, hurry up and pick something cause I need a wee.” 

“Such a bloody romantic, Haz. I’m swooning,” Louis snorts, heading over to browse through some shoes.

Harry takes to just following Louis around the store instead of actually looking for anything himself. To be honest, he _is_ feeling a little jealous of that bloke Niall, and Harry doesn’t want to buy anything from his shop on pure principle. 

The same cannot be said for Louis, however. He’s not toting along a basket chock full of potential purchases, but he is definitely not in any hurry to get out of this place. Despite Harry’s earlier plea. 

“What about this?” Louis asks suddenly, reaching for a baby pink baseball cap with the words ‘Angel’ stitched cutely to the front. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Harry squints at the cap in deep consideration. “Hm. I’m not really a cap kind of person.” 

Snorting a laugh, Louis takes the cap back and rolls his eyes, “Not for you -” 

“Well, I definitely don’t think it’s right for you then,” Harry interrupts, giving Louis a look of disbelief. “Unless the point of your look is to describe what you _aren’t_.” 

Scoffing this time, Louis looks from the cap to Harry in equal disbelief. “What are you trying to say, Harold? That I’m not pink, or I’m not an angel? Really, you can’t just drop a statement like that without some proper good reasoning behind it.” 

“Well, obviously I meant the pink,” Harry nods seriously. “Cause we all know what an angel you are...” 

Shrugging knowingly, Louis looks at the hat again before making a slightly perplexed face. “It’s actually for my sister. She’s into that whole 90s grunge thing.” 

“Which one?” 

“All of them,” Louis jokes. 

“Oh, so they can share,” Harry smiles. “Five gifts for the price of one.”

Tossing the hat into his ‘maybe’ pile, Louis nods in satisfaction. “Clever. I like your thinking, Styles.” 

Huffing a small laugh, Harry shifts feet slightly. “Hey, how long are you going to be?” 

“Why?” 

Harry sighs, “I don’t know. I just want to try another store now.” 

He doesn’t remind Louis that the real reason is because he still has to pee (kind of bad actually) and would like to find somewhere with a toilet. He could (not that it would actually help in speeding Louis along; this he knows from past experiences), but he feels like he doesn’t want to keep bringing it up and potentially annoy Louis, or seem too whiny about it. It is getting rather uncomfortable at this point however. Checking his phone, Harry sees that they’ve been wasting time in this shop for nearly thirty five minutes. Shifting feet again, he takes a moment to actually focus on his bladder, and he winces slightly. It is definitely worse than when they came in here. 

Despite this, it still takes another nearly twenty minutes to finally get Louis out of the shop (and away from Niall, who, Harry noticed, was eyeing Louis up and down really fucking blatantly as they stood at the checkout.) 

“Sheesh, Harry,” Louis grumbles lightheartedly after Harry practically drags him out of the door. “I was only flirting to try and get another 10% off - for _you_ , by the way. I’m not actually into him, you know.” 

“No, it’s not that,” Harry sighs, as he glances through the window of a small bookstore, trying to spot a bathroom. “I mean, I don’t ever want you to go in that store again,” he makes clear. Moving on to the next window, Harry’s squint inside turns into another scrunched frown of disappointment. “But I actually just really have to pee. I want to find a toilet.” 

“I bet I could get that super fit Irish bloke to let you use his,” Louis teases.

“We’re not going back in there,” Harry snaps lightly. “He probably has soap carved into your face or something. Monogrammed towels with your initials.” 

Taking Harry’s hand, Louis joins him in peeking into the shop windows’ that they pass. “You’re quite dramatic this afternoon.” 

“I hate the Irish,” Harry grumbles in his most adorable pout. He’s really exaggerating his jealousy right now, but it’s kind of fun at the same time. Maybe he can guilt-trip Louis into buying him some new jeans.

“Sooo dramatic,” Louis smiles, rolling his eyes.

Their search is proving futile until Louis suddenly points out a shop a few blocks later. “What about here?” he suggests, squinting against the sun at the store’s overhead sign. 

Turning his head to look, Harry’s eyes dart around. “I don’t know. Do they have a bathroom?” 

“Even better,” Louis smiles, holding the door open for Harry. When he steps inside, he hears a thousand little cries and squawks from cats, birds, and hamsters alike. 

“A pet store?” he asks amusedly. “I want a pony.”

The first little box they come to is of five fat and squealing guinea pigs. 

“Ooh they’re so cute,” Harry giggles, momentarily forgetting his need to pee as he leans down to pet one’s head. 

“Hmm, maybe _I’m_ the one who should be jealous then?” Louis accuses jokingly. Leaning in to pat the same guinea pig’s head, he adds, “I mean, how can I compete with a bunch of ginger fur, and two overly large front teeth?”

“It’s a losing battle,” Harry confirms. 

“Shall we have a look at the marine life?”

Shaking his head lightly, Harry agrees. “I’m gonna go see if they have a loo first, and then I’ll meet you over there.” Grimacing, he adds, “Too much iced tea at lunch…”

“You’re just planning on running off with the hamster, aren’t you?” Louis accuses.

“It’s a guinea pig,” Harry tells him matter-of-factly. “And yes, maybe. Would that make you jealous?”  
“Concerned, actually.” 

Rolling his eyes fondly, Louis heads over to the fish tanks, as Harry cranes his neck to see the back of the shop. They have to have a bathroom, right? It isn’t the largest pet store he’s ever been in, but with all the business they probably get, it seems like they should.

As he makes his way to the back to check for himself, Harry happens to pass a worker and he decides to just get right to the point instead of potentially getting distracted by the adorable kittens and puppies trying to find the toilet himself.

“Hi, um,” Harry says to the employee.”Do you have a bathroom?”

The guy shakes his head apologetically, “No, sorry.”

Harry bites back a groan just as the guy adds, “But that smoothie place down the road does, I think. You could try there.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Making his way over to where Louis is tapping the glass of a bearded dragon’s cage, despite the ‘please don’t tap the glass’ sign right in front of him, Harry can’t help but grimace at the heavy and full feeling in his bladder. He actually really has to go. 

When he reaches Louis’ side, he taps his shoulder lightly. Louis’ hand immediately retracts from the glass tank, and he blurts, “I wasn’t tapping the glass! I was making sure he was properly - oh,” he sighs when he realizes it’s Harry.

“You were making sure he was...?” Harry raises an amused eyebrow.

“Ok, I was tapping the glass,” Louis huffs. “He looks lonely.”

“Well, we can’t buy him.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s a big ‘I’m Sold’ sign right above the ‘Please don’t tap the glass’ sign.”

“Ugh, you know I hate reading,” Louis groans, waving a goodbye to the lizard, and peeking into the tank beside it.

Gritting his teeth slightly at the steadily uncomfortable fullness in his bladder, Harry scrunches his face slightly, and whispers, “They don’t have a toilet here.”

“Want me to go flirt with whatever employee is up front? I bet I can get them to change their mind,” Louis teases, taking Harry’s hand and leading him off to the dog cages before he can answer. “We have to check out the dogs first.”

Harry would actually rather go look at all the kitties, but maybe he’ll just have to do that next time. Actually, he’d rather just leave.

Louis spends forever at the dogs, texting photos of them to his friends, and asking the workers about the different types of breeds, as if he’s actually going to buy one. 

Finally, what feels like ages later, Harry can hardly stand still anymore. His bladder is absolutely screaming at this point. With his arms folded over his chest, he steps from one foot to the other, blowing out another low breath when Louis thinks of yet another question to ask the poor employee he has cornered.

That discussion lasts at least another ten painfully long minutes, where not even the adorable puppy faces can distract Harry from his pressing need anymore. 

“-So would you like to go take it for a little walk around the back?”

Harry’s eyes double in size as he glances at the worker.

“We have a little space out back for the dogs to run around, and we let potential owners out to play with them for a bit, and see whether it’s a good match or not.”

Harry can already see Louis’ eyes gleaming in anticipation, and before Harry can get more than a pointed cough that unfortunately goes unnoticed, out, Louis is already nodding happily. As soon as the worker is out of sight, Harry steps up to him and winces.

“Louis. What are you doing?”

“What? I wanna see if we’re a good match.”

“Are you planning on buying it?”

“Probably not,” Louis shrugs sadly. “We don’t really have the space.”

“Well, then, you shouldn’t go take it for a walk and get its hopes up if you’re not even planning on adopting it.”

“It’s good exercise. And maybe I _will_ adopt it. Like I said, I want to see if we’re a good match. Don’t you like dogs?”

“Yes, I do,” Harry whines, stepping around in a little circle. “It’s just that this is taking forever, and I don’t mean to be annoying, but I _really_ need to find a bathroom, and they said this one smoothie place down the street might have one, and I just really want to go and find it.”

He stops his pacing once he finishes his rant, going back to folding his arms and squirming his legs around. “Sorry,” he moans in apology for his little outburst. “I just really need a wee.” 

“Ok, but just to clarify, you _do_ like dogs?” Louis raises an accusing eyebrow.

Huffing out a breath, Harry jiggles his legs. “Ughh, don’t make me laugh.”

“Right. Hang on. I just want to walk, little...” Louis squints at the name tag in the now-empty dog’s cage, “‘Marlon Brando’, hm, good man, for like five minutes. And then we can go.”

Making a face, Harry really wishes Louis would just let them leave now. Especially since Louis already knows they can’t actually get the dog. But Harry supposes he can handle five more minutes. As long as that’s all it is.

“Fine…”

“Are you gonna come?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry shakes his head lightly. “I don’t want to end up getting attached to him. I’ll just stay in here and look at the cats and birds.”

“I can’t believe I fell in love with a crazy cat lady,” Louis jokes, eyes going wide with glee as the worker comes back out holding the dog’s leash, and passes it to Louis. “I’ll be back,” he tells Harry, patting the dog’s head and following the worker out the back.

Harry taps the spot on his wrist where a watch would be, indicating that he’d be waiting. Rather impatiently. 

Once he’s alone, Harry decides to kill the time by looking at the precious kittens a few cages down. He already knows it’s a bad move since he’s going to want to take home every single one of them, but he can’t help himself. They’re so bloody cute.

“Hey little guys,” he smiles, waving through the cage. Half of them move away in fear, and the other half come forward excitedly. 

Shifting his hips, Harry leans down to pet one of them, grunting as the edge of the cage manages to press right into his screaming bladder. Fuck, he really has to go. 

Only a few moments later, Harry moves away from the adorable meowing of the kittens, and heads over to the front window to peek out and see if he can spot the smoothie place that guy was talking about. He doesn’t see it, but there’s a lot of shops down this street, and maybe it’s just hidden somewhere amongst them. Hopefully close by, too. 

Sighing uncomfortably, Harry adjusts his waistband, pulling it away from where it’s resting heavily against his bladder, and then heads over to watch the birds until Louis comes back. Most of them are sleeping however, and none of them are proving to be enough of a distraction for Harry, whose entire focus was now on finding a toilet and relieving this massive pressure.

He’s almost doing a little pee dance in the center of the store by the time Louis finally comes back in with the dog. _Finally_.

Stumbling over, Harry leans into Louis’ ear as Louis hands the leash back to the worker.

“I thought you said _five minutes_!”

“That _was_ five minutes. Oh god, Harry, he’s so cute!” Louis gushes, waving as the little dog looks back at them happily. “Are you sure we don’t have room for him? It’s a ‘him’ by the way, I found that out outside.”

“I don’t know,” Harry winces, stepping on one of his feet, and clenching his hands down at his sides. “Dogs are a lot of responsibility. I didn’t think you had any of that,” he adds with a strained smile.

“Hey!” Louis scoffs playfully. “I am almost offended, Curly.”

“I’m just kidding,” Harry sighs, not even able to keep up with his own joke because he’s too distracted. “Are you done? Did you say good-bye to him? Can we go now?”

Louis gives him an overly exaggerated look of surprise. “Before we play with the ferrets? I don’t think so.”

Jiggling on the spot in growing frustration, Harry moans in his head. Of course he would love to stay here all day and play with the ferrets, and the turtles, and whatever else they’ve got in here, but his bladder is starting to pulse at this point, and he really doesn’t want to wait anymore.

Reaching out to grab Louis’ hand as he tries to step towards the ferrets a few feet away, Harry tugs him back with a slightly pained face. “No, Lou, really. I _have_ to go to the toilet. I mean, I really, really do. Maybe we can come back after, or another time. Or whatever. When I don’t have to pee so bad,” he tries to joke to keep things light. 

Rolling his eyes only half-annoyed, Louis smiles and intertwines their fingers. “Fineeee,” he sighs, leading the way to the door. “Bladder Boy.”

Pushing the door open, Harry scrunches his face in mild embarrassment. “Don’t call me that,” he whines. Louis’ taken to using this horrible nickname he’s created whenever they’re out and Harry has to pee. It’s humiliating, really. 

Swinging their clasped hands together softly, Louis smiles beside him, “Don’t call you what, Bladder Boy?”

“Stop!” Harry hisses, face flushing slightly as they pass a young couple within hearing distance. 

“I think it’s cute,” Louis grins. “Maybe that’s how I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

“I’m surprised you have friends if you call them things like, Bladder Boy.”

“No, that’s only you.”

Harry pouts, “Great…”

Squinting off into the distance, Louis hums softly, “I forgot where we’re going.” 

Eyes scanning the name of every shop they pass, Harry cringes quietly as his bladder sloshes painfully with every step he takes. “Um, some smoothie place. I don’t know. The guy said it was somewhere down here.”

“Is that it?” Louis is pointing somewhere ahead of them.

Craning his neck to see, Harry sighs in mild relief when he finds what they’re looking for. It’s still a few yards off, but closer than he’s been to any toilet so far.

“Oh yay,” Harry huffs happily, starting to walk a little faster. “I seriously have to piss like a racehorse.”

Louis snorts a laugh, “What does that even mean, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits. “I just do.”

They make it to the cafe a few minutes later, and Harry is actually struggling to resist hurrying inside too quickly. He tries to shove the door open but it doesn’t budge, and he realizes he’s supposed to pull it, and just that minor of a setback has him moaning low in his throat when he finally gets inside. Immediately, his eyes scan the place for the loo. Before he can find it, they’re being greeted by the cheerful worker up front. 

“What can I get for you?” he says, looking from Louis to Harry.

“Are you having anything?” Louis asks, giving the menu a curious glance.

Shaking his head hurriedly, Harry is nearly bouncing at the knees as he whispers, “No. Just the loo. I’ll be right back.”

Avoiding the worker’s eyes, since he sometimes feels bad coming into places only to use the bathroom without buying anything, Harry darts off to the lobby behind the counter, hoping to spot the toilet back there. As soon as he rounds the corner, his eyes find the wonderful door he’s looking for, and he breathes a deep sigh of relief. Thank god. His bladder is seriously straining right now. 

Trying to walk as fast as he can without actually breaking out into a sprint, Harry hurries over to the single door marked TOILET, and goes to pull the handle. But he doesn't even get a chance to twist it before he crosses his legs (as casually as he can make it seem), and groans audibly. Tacked to the door is a bloody ‘Out of Order’ sign. Harry can’t believe it. Trying the knob just to be safe, he lets out another strained moan when it proves to indeed be locked. This is just what he needs. 

Giving the door a resentful frown; like it’s its fault Harry has to pee right now, Harry sighs one final time before making his way back to the front, bladder still completely full. 

Louis is waiting at the counter, and he smiles when he sees Harry coming back over.

“I ordered us a banana coconut smoothie. We can share - Are you okay?” he frowns suddenly, probably correctly reading the distressed look on Harry’s face.

Stepping up beside him at the counter, Harry tucks his lips between his teeth and nods constrictedly. 

Louis looks at him, and Harry tries to keep the tension from showing too obviously on his face. “You sure? Did they have a toilet?”

Nodding, Harry furrows his brows and glances out the window to the street outside. He really doesn't want to make any more of a big deal out of this, but fuck. He needs to go. He really did have too much iced tea at lunch. 

“Mm hmm,” Harry nods again, his cheeks puffed in discomfort. 

Before he can say anything else, Louis’ smoothie is being passed over. Taking it, he looks around.

“Wanna sit here and drink it? Me feet hurt. Need a break.”

Jiggling on the spot, Harry’s hands are cupped down in front of himself, and he groans deeply in his head. No. He wants to go find an actual working toilet. 

“Kay…” he sighs instead, following Louis as he heads over to an open booth. 

Sliding into opposite seats, Louis sticks the straw into the smoothie and takes a drink.

“Perfect,” he grins. Tilting it towards Harry, he says, “Want any?”

Harry shakes his head, leaning down in his seat. The position is making his bulging bladder feel even more strained. Shifting back up, he leans forward and squeezes his legs under the table. _Jesus Christ, I need to piss,_ he thinks anxiously. 

Louis is sipping at his drink, checking his phone, and Harry squeezes his legs harder, fingers starting to dig into his thighs. The time is going by achingly slow, and Louis seems in absolutely no rush to finish up in here. Harry fidgets restlessly in his seat. He feels like he’s going to explode. 

Suddenly, Louis laughs quietly at a text, and Harry swallows nervously, anxious for any sort of distraction.  
“What?” he nearly whimpers, leaning low against the table.

Glancing over at him with a mischievous look in his eye, Louis says, “Oh. It was just Liam. He told me he just went into the sports shop, and apparently Niall was asking about me…”

Hardly listening, Harry’s eyes dart from Louis’ face back to the window. None of the shops within seeing distance look likely to have toilets. Where the hell was he supposed to go? He suddenly realizes Louis is watching him, waiting for some sort of response to whatever he’d just said. Chewing his lip, Harry cross his thighs tightly under the table, one on top of the other.

“Oh? That’s cool…”

He realizes it was a bad response when Louis just scoffs, pouting, “It’s only fun when you get jealous, Harry.”

Harry _is_ jealous. He’s jealous of anyone who doesn’t have to pee right now. 

“Hey - ask him if that place has a toilet.” he suddenly suggests, realizing he was at least half-listening. If they do, Harry’s willing to go back there despite whoever may be working, to use it.

Furrowing his eyes in apparent confusion, Louis shakes his head, “Come again?”

“Liam,” Harry explains. “Ask if the shop he’s in has a toilet.” 

“Why?” Louis squints at him in amusement. “You have to go again?” 

Trying not to groan in impatience, Harry leans back up from the table, uncrossing his legs and turning his knees together. “Please. I just want to know. For future reference. In case we go back there again.”

“Okayy…?” Louis drawls suspiciously. But he sends the text anyway. Harry waits for the response with his bum pressing into the seat, and hands gripping the edges. He really feels like he’s going to explode. One hand is creeping its way to grip his thighs again, near his groin when Louis’ phone finally buzzes with a response.

Looking it over, Louis purses his lips. “He says if they did we would know since we would have already been fucking inside it.” He stares at his phone for a moment. “Huh.” 

Harry huffs low in his throat, stretching his pressed legs out under the table, and feeling his bladder pulse steadily inside him.

“He certainly has an interesting point of view on our sex life.” Louis decides, slipping his phone back into his pocket, and slurping at his drink. 

“That’s really what he said?” Harry moans, running his hands down his shaking thighs. “Not just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

“Why does it matter?” Louis grills, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“I just want to know,” Harry huffs, rocking slightly forward in his seat.

“Yeah, but why?”

“I just want to!” 

“Ok, sheesh,” Louis shrugs, going back to his drink. “You sure you don’t want any? It’s banana. Your favorite.”

“I’m not t-thirsty,” Harry grunts, bouncing his legs up and down beneath the table. Definitely _not_ thirsty. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Louis asks again, giving Harry a doubtful glance. “You seem a bit tense. And it’s not like you to pass up phallic-shaped foods, even in semi-liquid form.”

Grunting a weak laugh, Harry brings his legs back in under the table, and presses them together. “I had a hotdog earlier.”

Following a fond smirk, Louis starts chatting about this and that for several minutes. Harry nods and mumbles ‘right’ and ‘okay’ at the appropriate times, but mostly he isn’t following a word of what Louis’ saying. All his attention is focused on his aching bladder, which feels overly-full at this point. Squirming restlessly in his seat, he tries propping his head up with his arm, before moving again to lean back against the booth, to fidgeting anxiously with the straw wrapper on the table as his legs tap wildly beneath it. 

“Mm hmm,” he hums again when Louis pauses briefly. Shifting his bum heavily on the seat, Harry blows out a breath and tilts his hips forward and backward. He is so restless and fidgety that he’s almost positive Louis is going to notice soon and call him out on it. But he just can’t sit still at this point. Moving around is the only way to keep his bladder from screaming so loudly at him. 

A few anxious minutes later, just as Harry uncrosses his legs again to shift up and sit on one of them instead, trying to press himself against it to relieve some of the constant strain, Louis finally does seem to notice. 

“What is wrong with you?” he says.

Squishing himself against his leg, Harry puffs out his cheeks, grunting anxiously in his throat. “Mppf. Huh?” Huffing out a quick sigh, Harry rearranges himself again so that both his legs are back under the table. Squeezing his thighs, he clasps his hands together on the table, his thumbs fiddling anxiously together. “What do you mean?” Obviously he knows what Louis means. He just hopes Louis isn’t able to figure it out.

Looking him up and down suspiciously, Louis purses his lips together before taking another long gulp of his smoothie. Harry tries with all his might to keep from bouncing up and down on the chair. He settles from a very light, hopefully unnoticable, rocking of his pelvis. 

“Never mind,” Louis finally says, finishing his drink and still giving Harry that curious look. “Right, do you want to get going?”

Ears perking up instantly, Harry nods quickly, pushing himself back against his seat. “Yes! I mean, I’m ready, yeah.” Rushing to get out of the booth, he’s up and leaning awkwardly against the table before Louis has even gathered up his things. The abrupt change in position has Harry cringing, and he can’t help but cross his legs at the ankles, trying to make it seems casual. It’s not. It’s really not. 

He’s leaning to the other side with a grimace on his face by the time Louis is finally out of his seat, and heading to dump his empty cup in the trash. 

When they’re back outside, squinting against the afternoon sun, Louis takes Harry’s slightly clammy hand and asks, “Where should we go now?”

_’Anywhere with a toilet!’_ Harry’s mind screams as he shifts from foot to foot on the sidewalk. Bladder Boy was really living up to his name right now. “D-doesn’t matter,” he squeaks instead. 

“Cool, well there’s this sick skate shop around here I’ve been wanting to check out. Do you mind? I don’t want you getting all upset and bummed out about your lack of coordination, and basically anything skateboard-related, when we go inside.”

Harry can tell by the light tone, that Louis is messing with him, but he’s too distracted to play along. Instead, he just shakes his head, squeezing Louis’ hand in a death grip. “That’s fine. I don’t mind.”

With a shrug, Louis starts heading off in the general direction, leading Harry along as he goes back to whatever discussion they were having in the smoothie cafe. 

On the way to the skate shop, Louis happens to notice another small store that looks promising, and Harry readily agrees for even the slightest chance they might have a loo. They don’t. And since Harry’s stubbornness is keeping him from bringing it up again, Louis is in no rush to leave; taking his time looking around, and asking Harry’s opinion on certain things he grabs. All the while seeming completely oblivious to how Harry is crossing and recrossing his legs, biting his lip, and pacing around restlessly the entire time. Harry does notice Louis eyeing him now and then, but he doesn’t say anything and so Harry just assumes Louis’ not interpreting Harry’s pee dancing for what it is. 

Just when Harry is about to break down and beg that they leave and find another shop, Louis decides he’s done, and he leads the way back out onto the street. Once they’re outside, Harry starts to panic.

_’Toilet, toilet, toilet, I have got to find a toilet,’_ he frets. What would happen if he never found one? Would his bladder actually burst? Obviously he’s been in desperate situations like this before, where a lack of convenient toilets made him question his ability to hold it, and he still managed to make it out alive. But still. What would happen if he never found a place to pee? Would he just keep getting fuller and fuller until his eyes actually turned yellow? If they weren’t already. _’Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’_ he chastises himself. _’This is a popular town. Obviously there’s a loo somewhere. I just have to find it.’_

As he stumbles along with Louis, trying to both keep a lookout for anywhere resembling a loo, as well as keeping his bladder in control as it jiggles and pulses with each step he takes, another voice pops into Harry’s head. Apparently the logical part of his brain has something to add to his worries. _’By the way,’_ it chimes in, _’If you keep on going holding it without finding a toilet soon, it’s far more likely that you’ll make a complete fool of yourself when you finally lose control and totally wet yourself in front of anyone who might be walking by, including Louis, the love of your life. How humiliating would that be?’_

Great, Harry thinks as he scoffs at himself in disbelief. Now he’s being mocked by his own thoughts. Is there no one he can trust? 

“-Harry?”

Shaking himself back into the present moment, Harry flushes slightly when he realizes Louis is staring at him with a look of concern on his face.

“Wait, what?” Harry gulps, tugging at his waistband, and stumbling uneasily. 

“Never mind,” Louis changes his mind. “What is with you right now?”

Clenching his hands into fists, Harry nearly squeaks out loud at the unforgivable pressure in his bladder. He has to take care of this, right now. They’re just about to pass a random little boutique, and hastily, Harry tugs Louis’ hand that he’s still holding and directs them to the door instead.

“Nothing!” Harry squeaks, hopefully convincingly. “Hang on, I wanna look in this shop,” he lies, already pulling the door open blindly. 

As soon as they’re inside, he knows it was a stupid idea. It’s a little kid's clothing store. What Harry would supposedly want to look for in here that would convince Louis he wanted to check it out, is a mystery. But it was the closest thing within reach, and he just really wants to see if they have a loo he can use. 

“Um, Haz, I hate to break it to you,” Louis says suddenly, eyeing the racks of baby clothes skeptically. “But I’m smaller than you are, and nothing in here will even fit me.” Picking a random onsie off a rack, he holds it to his chest. “What do you think?”

Sparing a quick glance, Harry offers him a half-smile, “Perfect.” Craning his neck all around the small store, he tries to spot some sort of door that might lead to a toilet. Nothing. Fuck! Maybe there really are _no_ toilets in this town!?

“Ugggh,” he breathes out in frustration. It’s only then he realizes he’s crossing his legs obviously. Trying to untangle himself before Louis can spot his little pee-stance, Harry’s hand slips protectively to his straining bladder. He can feel the hard mass poking through his shirt. It hurts to touch. Clenching his teeth in distress, he looks around one more time before turning back to Louis. Louis seems to be watching him, and he looks away hurriedly when Harry catches his eye. 

“Sooo...what exactly did you want to come in here for,” Louis asks curiously, putting the onsie back on the rack. 

Shifting his weight, Harry brushes hair from his face, and grits his teeth. “I just wanted to see if they had any...um.” God, he can’t think under this kind of pressure. “Any, um…” Nearly jumping in place, he looks around again. He has to pee so bad. It’s all he can think about. 

“…Any toilets…?” Louis suddenly interjects, and Harry’s head whips back towards him, his cheeks reddening.

“What?”

Smiling softly, Louis comes over to snake his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “It’s kind of obvious, babe.” Before Harry can even attempt to deny it, Louis adds, “Why didn’t you go at the smoothie place? I thought you said they had a loo.” 

Instantly giving up on trying to keep calm and deny it anymore, Harry starts bouncing on his toes and cringes, “They did. But it was out of order!”

“Why didn’t you say that?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, trying to keep from drawing too much attention to himself as some employees glance over at them. “I was just going to find somewhere to go after, but I don’t think any of these places have a toilet!”

“Ok, hang on,” Louis tell hims. Taking his arm back, he heads over to the nearest window and glances outside. A moment later, he nods efficiently. “Right. There’s a McDonald’s just down there. They should have one.” 

Usually Harry would agree, but with the way things are going today, he’s not so sure. 

Still bouncing anxiously, he shares his concern with Louis. “Are you sure? What if they don’t?”

“Only one way to find out,” Louis shrugs, coming back over to to grab Harry’s hand, and Harry realizes he’s been rooted to the spot with desperation. Mangining to untangle his legs, he cringes as he lets Louis help him out of the store and back onto the street. A slight breeze has picked up, and the cool air isn’t helping Harry’s situation any. Clenching his free hand tightly, he makes a pained face and groans.

“It hurts to walk,” he admits, a hand reaching down to try and cup his bladder as it jolts and sloshes around with each hurried step. 

“Well I suggested the skate shop, remember? Coulda bought a board and you wouldn't have had to walk,” Louis teases playfully, probably in the hopes to get Harry’s mind off it. But Harry is honestly so far past that point, he can hardly even laugh at Louis’ joke.

“I’m shit at it though, remember?”

“Oh, I definitely remember,” Louis grins. “You falling on your arse every three minutes before we even took the stoppers off the wheels, isn’t something you forget easily.”

Whimpering softly, Harry’s hard cups his lower stomach firmly. “Ooh, don’t make me laugh,” he pleads, tipping his head back slightly. “That’s a _really_ bad idea right now.” 

Louis giggles softly. “Gotchya.” A moment later, he points off ahead of them. “There's the McDonald's. Do you see it? Not that far.”

It looks pretty far to Harry. It’s all the way at the end of the street. How did Louis even see it from that clothing store?

“That’s really far!” he groans, glancing around in hopes of passing something else sooner. 

“Oh. Hmm,” Louis purses his lips, glancing at Harry as he scrunches his face in pain. “Well, do you see a better option?” 

Shaking his head distractedly, Harry puffs out a breath. “No..”

“Come on,” Louis encourages, “you can make it. It’s not as far as it looks.” Before Harry has a chance to protest, Louis is suddenly tugging him along at a quicker pace that has him cringing and moaning as he tries to keep up.

“Ooohf, it hurts,” Harry whines, squeezing Louis’ hand tightly.

“Almost there,” Louis tells him, managing to dodge a couple walking towards them and paying little attention to their surroundings. “Almost there,” he says again a minute later.

Somehow, and Harry almost doesn’t think it’s going to happen, they make it to the McDonald’s. Feeling like he is going to burst any second, Harry quickly throws the door open and hurries inside. He knows the loos are in the back, so without wasting a second, he nearly stumbles his way over, not even caring if the people up front know he just came in here to pee without buying anything. 

He’s just rounded the corner when he’s hit with even more bad luck. This is just not his day! There is a queue of about four men all waiting for the single-stall toilet. With a miserable groan, Harry gets into the end of the line, jiggling helplessly in place and really, really hoping it’s not a completely obvious pee-dance. He notices there’s only one girl waiting for the women’s toilet, and it makes him groan even more. Why! Why him. He watches dismally as the girl goes into the loo as his line moves up one person.

He’s shifting feet so much he’s basically dancing in place. 

“What kind of a McDonald's only has a single-person toilet?” he gripes to Louis, standing beside him line. Leaning forward awkwardly, Harry grunts, “I really can’t hold it..”

“You should just go use the girls’,” Louis suggests.

Looking at him in disbelief, Harry crosses his legs. “What? No way.”

“Why not? It’s a loo, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve never been inside a girls’ before, but I’m assuming there must be toilets in there.”

“Yeah, but,” Harry mumbles, glancing nervously over at the women’s toilet. “Am I allowed to?”

“Well, it’s probably not encouraged,” Louis admits with a shrug. “But I bet you could slide just this once. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Why would I make a habit of it?” Harry hisses, failing to catch that Louis’ joking, as he squeezes his legs tighter, still staring at the doors to the girls loo. 

Giving the line ahead of them another nervous glance, Harry uncrosses his legs, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I don’t know, maybe I should. I have to go so bad!”

“Go for it. I can stand ‘guard’ if you want,” Louis smirks.

Harry’s still hesitating when he sees two girls on their phones headed in the direction of the bathroom. This is his only chance. He can’t handle a line right now, and besides they don’t look like they’re in much of a hurry anyway.

“Ok, I’m going,” he blurts out, not even waiting for Louis, as he hobbles to the women’s loo just before the girls reach the door.

“Sorry, sorry,” he groans, cutting in front of them and rushing through the door. “Emergency. I’m sorry!”

Harry really can’t believe he just did that, but he also doesn’t have time to worry about it either. The sight of the toilet is making him sweat, and he quickly undoes his jeans as he stumbles to the toilet. With a huge sigh of relief, he aims and lets go. It feels like forever before he’s finally empty again. But when he is, he feels about ten times lighter, and ten times less frantic. What a blessed feeling. 

After washing up, he heads back out a bit uncertainly. His cheeks flush slightly when he’s not only met with the two girls he cut off; both looking at him in mild bewilderment, but also the light snickers from the guys still in line for the men’s loo. Oh well. It could be worse. And it might _have_ been, too. Besides, it’s not like Harry will ever see these people again. At least he hopes not. 

Of course no one is giving him as incredulous and humored a look as Louis is. Arms folded over his chest, he can barely keep the giggles from pouring out as Harry makes his way back over.

“What’s so funny,” Harry demands, avoiding everyone’s eyes as he hurries back to the door to get out of there. 

“Nothing,” Louis shrugs. “I just - when I said that, I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.”

“I said I had to go,” Harry reminds, pushing the door open and marching back outside. “I really had to go. And just so you know, there _are_ toilets in there.”

Louis just grins, shaking his head fondly.

**Author's Note:**

> (Harry doesn't really hate the Irish. It's just a joke. Please don't take offense!)


End file.
